


The Rogue Angel

by Thedarkestshadowgreeks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blindness, Castiel in a Female Vessel, Death, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Murder, Protective Castiel, Rouge Castiel, Vessel change, greif, past Destiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedarkestshadowgreeks/pseuds/Thedarkestshadowgreeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this chapter is really short. I promise the others will be longer!</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Cas?" Dean called into the dark warehouse. The angel had been right behind him a minute ago, but now... He was gone.

There was nothing, not a single sound, for what seemed like an eternity. "I'm here, Dean." Cas called out from somewhere in the dark.

Dean spun his flashlight towards his freind's voice, seeing nothing. Then Cas stumbled into the beam of light. But something was wrong.

Blood was running down the side of Castiel's face, far too much to be minor, even for a head wound. And blood stains were blooming on his shirt, directly below Castiel's heart.

Dean almost dropped the flashlight as he ran forward. He grabbed his freind's shoulders for support. "What happened?"

"An angel, Daniel." Cas said weakly. "He- he said that he was sorry, but that he had to do this. He- he was a good shot, and fast." Cas smiled, but then his knees gave out and he almost fell out of Dean's grasp.

The hunter lowered them to the ground. "It's okay, Cas. We'll fix this." He murmured. "You're going to be okay."

The smile stayed on the angel's face. "Thats wishful thinking, Dean Winchester. I'm pretty sure I'm dying."

Dean shook his head and firmly held his friend's head between his hands. "You are not going to die, Castiel. I need you. I'll find a way to fix this."

Cas smiled. "Too late." He muttered, blood dripping from the side of his mouth. "Goodbye, Dean." The angel went limp, falling into Dean's lap like a rag doll.

Sam ran into the warehouse then, as Dean was staring numbly at Cas' limp body.

"Dean? Cas?" The younger Winchester brother called.

"We're overhear, Sam." Dean called back.

Sam Winchester appeared from the darkness. The second he saw them, his face fell. "Oh god, please tell me this is a trick."

Dean shook his head. "One of his brothers attacked him. He's dead." He picked up his best friend's body, the angel's lifeless form surprisingly light. "We have to bring him back to the bunker. I'm going to clean up the blood and stitch up the wounds, then we're going to burn Cas." His words caught in his throat.

"Dean-" Sam began. 

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean said, fighting back the emotions that tried to show through his stony face. "Shut up. I don't want to talk about it." He walked past his brother, towards the impala.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean began downing his second bottle of whiskey that night.

He heard the door to his room open behind him.

"Go away, Sam." He said in the same monotone he'd used for the past three months. "I'm busy."

"We have a case."

"What's so important about this case that you can't ask me in the morning?" Dean snapped.

"Starting a month ago several people's eyes have been burned out, even more dead. Cause of death knife through the chest."

Dean straightened but refused to turn around. "You think it's an angel?"

"I think it's Daniel." Sam replied, pushing the paper onto the desk in front of Dean. "They wrote Winchester on the walls in blood."

Dean stood up instantly. "We're leaving at first light."

\------------------

Dean knocked on the front door to the almost comically small house.

The door swung open, revealing a small teenage girl, with a shaved head, freckles, and bandages where her eyes should have been. "Yes?" Her high pitched voice asked.

"I'm agent Brenan and this is my partner agent Hodgins. We're from the FBI. We were hoping to talk to one of the... um... accident victims." Sam said, looking about as uncomfortable as Dean felt.

"Mom!" The girl called behind her. "There's two men at the door, they say they're from the FBI."

A slightly taller woman wearing an apron and oven mitts appeared behind the girl, her red hair in a messy bun, her pale eyes squinted in suspicion. The Winchesters flashed their fake badges, and the woman nodded. "I assume you want to talk to my Angela?" The woman asked.

Dean nodded. "We're investigating the accidents that have been occuring over the past month."

The woman stepped back, bringing her daughter with her. "Come in, then, and we'll talk."

\-----

"What do you want to know?" Angela asked, her mother watching them from the kitchen a few yards away, passive-agressivley baking.

"What happened the night you lost your vision?" Dean asked.

Angela smiled, her glass eyes unmoving. "You'll think I'm insane if I tell the truth."

"We've heard stranger than anything you can tell us, trust me." Sam promised. "Anything you can tell us will help us catch who ever did this."

Angela leaned back into the chair. "I was out with my friends, Becka and Jane. We were coming home from this party Becka's boyfriend had thrown when we heard this weird, almost ringing sound from the empty lot a mile or two from here. We decided to check it out. There was a woman standing in the middle of the lot, surrounded by the yellow grass. She was in her late twenties, early forties, these bright blue eyes, really cheekbony, straight dark hair, and this wierd white dress."

"What was weird about it?" Dean pried.

"It was blowing around. A lot. But it wasn't windy that night, the air was completely still." Abigal said slowly.

"What happened after you saw the woman?" Dean asked. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was weird about the description Angela had given her, like it was too familiar to just be another angel.

"She looked up at us from her hands. We were all frozen in place, or at least I was. I couldn't tell if I was relaxed or terrified. The lady walked over to Jane and pulled out this long silver knife. She said something too quiet for me to hear, I think she called her a 'nephim'? Then she..."

"What did the woman do to your friend?" Sam asked.

"She drove the knife through her heart." Angela said, her words catching in her throat. "She killed Jane. Then she moved to Becka. I could hear that more clearly." The girl's voice changed to a calm immitation. "'Hello, Nephim. I'm sorry I have to do this, but I've used up my defiance. To hide, I need to play this game.' Then the woman drove the knife through Becka's heart too, and she turned to me."

"What did she say?" Dean asked so quickly his words melted together.

"That she was sorry, that she'd right her wrongs one day. I remember everything I saw, but I can hardly remember anything I heard, it was so weird. I can remember the exact image of the scarlet blood running from Becka's lips to the ground as the last scraps of life left her, but not the words the woman said to me."

"How did you lose your vision?" Sam asked gently.

"I don't know. She pressed her palm to my forehead and there was this feeling of my eye's melting out of my head. Then I fell and there was this wing flapping sound. At some point someone must have walked by because there was screaming then sirens. The doctors thought I was dead. Then one of them had the good sense to check my vitals and shocker, I was alive. No one can explain why or how my eyes literally either exploded or burned out of my head. But they did, and now everyone thinks I'm crazy."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think your description will help us catch the woman in white." Dean said gently.

"I actually have a sketch of the woman." Angela said, pulling a crumpled peice of paper from her jacket pocket. "There's a fourth girl in my friend group: Daniella. She wants to be a police sketch artist. Thank god she stayed home from the party, it was never her scene. I would have done it myself but that's not exactly an option. She definetly used to be good, so it's probably pretty acurate. But I can't be sure, since I can't check." She handed Dean the paper.

Dean unraveled it, what he saw nearly made the careful shell he'd constructed over the past few months crumble. He didn't even have to ask Angela to fill in the gaps, he could do that himself. The dead eyes stared into his soul as they turned bright blue, the straight hair dark. Then the image shifted to that of the angel this woman had to be related to.

He crumpled it in his hand and stood up. "Thank you, you've been a huge help. We'll keep you updated on this case."

\------------------

"Sam." Dean hissed as they walked down the long drive way back towards the impala.

"What, Dean?" His brother asked.

"Look at the sketch." He said, handing him the crumpled paper. "Who do you see?"

"I see the woman who killed two teenage girls and blinded a third one." Sam replied.

"They were nephilims if we can trust that girl's memory." Dean replied. "And while we're on the subject of trusting Angela's hearing, sounds like this angel is a former rebel who has to play by the rules until she reaches her end game. Add the apologizes, blue eyes, hair, overall face thing, and who do you have?"

Sam sighed. "Who?" He asked in a tone that conveyed that he knew the answer already.

"The angel we're hunting, the one that did this, is Cas." Dean replied shakily.

"Dean, it's not. It's someone pretending to be Cas. He's dead, and if he'd come back he would've come back to tell you first thing, no matter what was going on. Cas would never kill multiple innocent nephilim and blind innocent kids." His brother took a deep breath. "Look, he was my friend too. This is just your grief making you bend the details to see what you want to see. It is not Cas, it is not your dead boyfriend, it is a psychotic serial killing angel."

"It is Cas." Dean snapped. "It has to be."

"It's not Castiel."

"Who do you think it is, then?"

Sam smirked. "I think it's Daniel. He's trying to convince you its Cas, and it's working. A+ at being completely predictable, by the way."

\--------------------

Dean walked back into the motel room and saw Sam sitting in the same place as he had when Dean had left... hours ago.

"Have you been sitting at your computer all day?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded without turning around.

"And have you found anything?" Dean asked, sitting across the table from his brother and shoving another french fry into his mouth.

"A few articles, but they all say almost exactly the same thing as Angela told us, so they're completely useless."

Dean smiled. "Well I went and saw that Daniella girl and got her to lend me the other sketches the other victims gave her, they all look almost exactly the same as Angela's. And I also got a voice recording, a grainy video, and every single blind kid's explenation was exactly the same."

"Voice recording and video now." Sam demanded. "Let's settle this."

Dean handed off the flash drive he'd used to load the video and the recording off the two kids' phones. Sam snatched it away and stuck it into the laptop. 

After a few clicks a rustling sound came through the speakers.

"Anne, is there someone standing in the middle of that feild?"

"I think so."

A third voice. "Don't you two dare check it out."

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"I don't want to."

"You have to. Come on."

There was the sound of walking, then the phone was dropped.

"You three shouldn't be out here. It's not safe." Said a both bone chilling and warm voice just before the recording cut off.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this chapter is really short. I promise the others will be longer!


End file.
